


Long Time Listener

by pianoforeplay



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-23
Updated: 2011-10-23
Packaged: 2017-10-24 22:00:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/268333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pianoforeplay/pseuds/pianoforeplay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/232136">First Time Caller</a>; the boys finally meet face-to-face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Time Listener

**Author's Note:**

> Initially posted [here](http://pianoforeplay.livejournal.com/41911.html) on 11/13/10.

They talk once more during the week, the conversation somewhat awkward and stilted as they lock down the particulars of time and place. Jensen spends nearly every second just a breath away from calling the whole thing off.

"So, uh. How will I know it's you?" he asks, fingers idly picking at the knee of his jeans.

"Well, give me your e-mail and I can send a picture."

It's a logical offer, of course. Makes more sense than describing what they'll each be wearing, but Jensen still turns him down. He can't say entirely _why_ , but not knowing feels important somehow. Maybe keeps up the anticipation and curiosity and therefore increases his likelihood of actually going through with the whole ridiculous plan. Finding out beforehand could make him even more nervous, either because he'll find Jared totally unattractive or, worse, Jared will actually be as tall, broad and incredibly built as he claims and Jensen will freak out and not even bother leaving his house in fear of inevitable, humiliating rejection.

In the end, they settle on baseball caps, Jensen choosing one of the many UT hats he'd acquired as an undergrad.

"It's black. Just has the Longhorn logo in orange on the front."

Jared laughs, his voice low and teasing. "I think I have that same hat. Along with about 20,000 other people in this city."

"Yeah, but what're the odds someone else with that exact hat will be at that exact coffee shop at that exact time?"

"In Austin?"

Jensen laughs then despite himself, a quick huff of breath as he rubs a hand over his brow. "Whatever, I'm sure you'll figure it out."

"I'll just look for Brad Pitt's younger, hotter brother."

"Right," Jensen replies, going for a confident kind of arrogance, though he's pretty sure he fails spectacularly.

"I'll be wearing my roommate's Eagles cap."

"Eagles? As in Philadelphia?"

"Yeah," Jared says, smile still clear in his tone. "Figure you're not likely to see too many of those around."

"Your roommate's an Eagles fan?"

"No, he's just an asshole," Jared says, adding only after a beat or two of silence, "It's a long story. So, nine o'clock at Progress?"

Jensen sits up straighter and pulls in a breath, ignores the tug of anxiety in his gut as he finally replies, "Yeah. Progress at 9:00. I'll be there."

:::

Jensen shows up fifteen minutes late. It's entirely on purpose; he doesn't exactly relish the idea of sitting alone at a table trying to look disinterested while keeping a constant eye on the door and praying the guy who walks through it is neither hideously unattractive or overwhelmingly gorgeous. And yes, he's well aware it kind of makes him an asshole, but given that it took him three hours and a dose of Tylenol PM to even get to sleep last night, he's having a difficult time caring.

After all, the whole thing had been Jared's idea anyway. Why should Jensen have to suffer more awkwardness than absolutely necessary? As it is, he had to physically talk himself out of turning he car around four times on his way over. Jared should be grateful he's here at all.

Pocketing his keys, Jensen sucks in a breath and then heads up the steps to the front door. Stops dead in his tracks when he spots the green Philadelphia Eagles hat across the room. And the guy wearing it.

Jared doesn't notice him right away, too busy staring at one of the art pieces on the wall, chin resting on his palm and one leg jittering under the table. Jensen has about ten uninterrupted seconds to stare, though he wastes five of them seriously considering turning right back around, dropping into his car and driving home.

Because Jared is beyond gorgeous. He's huge -- even sitting, Jensen can tell that; the guy's legs barely fit under the table -- and as broad as he'd said, shoulders stretching out the cotton of his t-shirt. A pair of sunglasses dangle from the collar and Jensen's gaze drops to the thin black bracelet around the guy's wrist, follows it along the stretch of bare forearm--

"Hi! Can I help you with something?"

Abruptly pulled from his thoughts, Jensen sucks in a breath and looks at the girl standing in front of him. She's petite with blonde hair and brown eyes and a smirk that seems to imply she knows exactly what -- or _who_ \-- Jensen's been staring at.

He ignores the look as well as the heat he can feel working up his neck and roughly clears his throat. "Yeah, uhm. Double grande Americano?"

Giving him an indulgent smile, the girl nods and then gently touches his elbow to lead him to the front counter. "I'll help you out up here."

She rings up his order, not missing a beat when Jensen asks for a bagel to go with it. The way the place is set up, Jensen has his back to the rest of the store and he keeps his focus locked straight ahead, pretending to be fascinated by the art hung on the near wall as he waits for his drink. His skin itches with the effort to not glance back over his shoulder, to check that Jared is still there or maybe look around to see if there's more than one person wearing an Eagles cap. Because yeah, it may be unlikely, but it sure as hell isn't impossible and Jensen's still isn't quite sure he wants to believe that the fucking astoundingly hot guy with the mile-long legs and floppy brown hair is really _him_.

"Hey. Are you Jensen?"

The voice is instantly familiar, warm and friendly and sexy as hell, and Jensen's breath catches sharply as he glances toward it, gaze landing on the guy's somewhat tentative smile.

God, he _is_ tall. And built. And fucking _gorgeous_. Fuck.

Swallowing back a swell of insecurity, Jensen nods and pastes on a smile. "Yeah. Hi. So you're, uh. You're Jared."

"I'm Jared," he says, his smile turning even warmer. "And Jesus, you really weren't lying, were you?"

It might still be nerves, might be Jared's broad shoulders and blinding smile and the fact that Jensen's been up for an hour and half already without a drop of coffee, but whatever it is, he can't quite make sense of Jared's statement. Releasing an awkward laugh, Jensen shakes his head before tugging at the black Longhorns cap adorning his own head. "What, about the hat?"

Still grinning, Jared shakes his head. "About being Brad Pitt's hotter, younger brother."

It's not at all what Jensen's expecting, heat curling in his gut and throat working through a choked laugh before the barista mercifully calls out, "Grande Americano!"

"Uh, that's." He points toward the girl and then angles his way past Jared, fingers wrapping around the steaming cup as he breathes in the blissful aroma.

Jared grins at him and then nods over at the table before heading over.

They sit and Jensen spreads cream cheese onto his bagel as he waits for his coffee to cool, ignoring the itch still under his skin, overly aware of his every movement. He tries to appear neither too interested nor completely aloof, the weight of Jared's gaze on him like a physical thing. Clearing his throat, he sets down his knife and takes a bite of his bagel, their eyes meeting briefly as Jared smiles at him.

"So."

Chewing his bite, Jensen only arches an eyebrow, forcing himself not to fidget.

The silence stretches and Jared's lips twitch into another awkward silence before he huffs out a quick breath and shakes his head. "Shit, man. I had like, this whole conversation ready in my head. A nice, smooth speech or whatever. This is way easier on the phone."

The reminder makes Jensen's face heat and he quickly ducks his head as he swallows, grabs a napkin to wipe at his mouth. He wonders if he should apologize or maybe spare them both this agony and make up some excuse to leave, send Danneel an S.O.S. text just so she'll call him and he can pretend it's a family emergency. She kind of owes him anyway.

But before he can manage any of it, Jared rushes to add, "Sorry, I'm just. Way more nervous than I thought I'd be. You're kind of insanely hot."

The earlier Brad Pitt comment had implied a mutual attraction, but hearing him actually _say_ it sends a thrill straight down Jensen's spine, serving to boost his confidence a little even while the anxiety continues to twist in his gut.

"Yeah, well. You're, uh... not so bad yourself."

It's about the lamest thing he could possibly say -- not to mention a complete understatement -- but Jared just breaks out into another bright smile, eyes still warm. "Man, you're really not good at this whole flirting thing, are you?" he says, not unkindly.

Jensen smiles despite himself, though it's small and embarrassed.

"Hey, it's cool," Jared continues, cheeks creasing into wide dimples. "How 'bout we just start over from the top?" He holds out his right hand, eying Jensen expectantly. "Hi, I'm Jared. Nice to meet you."

Jensen looks down at the proffered hand, the long, strong fingers and golden skin. It hits him that a couple days ago, Jared had that hand wrapped around his own dick while talking to Jensen, had stroked himself off and came all over his fingers. And Jensen had heard every second of it. His dick twitches at the memory and he roughly clears his throat and shifts in his seat, thankful for the cover the tabletop provides as he forces the thought aside to paste on a smile.

"I'm Jensen," he says, reaching to take Jared's hand in his own, the grip as firm as he'd been expecting. It immediately brings a whole host of new images to Jensen's mind, but he refuses to let himself indulge, instead nodding at the cap on Jared's head. "I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask you to take that off before we continue," he says, letting a faint, teasing grin curve his lips.

Looking momentarily confused, Jared pulls his hand back and then laughs as he reaches up to pull off the Eagles cap, revealing a mop of thick brown hair beneath.

"Should burn this while I have the chance," he says thoughtfully before glancing up at Jensen, hair falling over his forehead.

And Jesus, he really is just about the hottest thing Jensen's ever laid eyes on. It's a little terrifying, honestly. What the hell has he gotten himself into?

Jensen pulls in a breath and reaches for his coffee. Says, "I've got a Bic in my car," and is rewarded with Jared's low, familiar chuckle, the sound of it coiling at the base of his spine and settling comfortably.

They stay for another hour or so, Jensen ordering himself a second coffee about halfway through while Jared talks about some of the classes he's taking and what he wants to do once he graduates. It's only been a few years since Jensen's stint at UT and they share experiences, from sneaking in naps on the third floor of the Union to late nights spent at the Jester Wendy's to run-ins with Sasquatch Dave. They talk a little bit about life before UT, which is how Jensen finds out a little about Jared's family, his parents and sister (still in high school back in San Antonio) and brother (currently in med school in Chicago). In exchange, Jensen tells Jared about his own family and growing up in Richardson and what made him decide to go to UT and it's all surprisingly easy. Comfortable even.

Some of the anxiety is still there, of course. Jensen can't help reminding himself a couple times that he's actually on a _date_. With a _guy_.

A guy who already knows what Jensen sounds like when he comes.

"We should really do this again sometime," Jared says as they head outside, Jensen's belly soothed with caffeine and carbs.

He squints against the sunlight and manages a smile. "Yeah, that'd be cool," he says, nodding as he pulls his keys out of his pocket.

"Awesome," Jared says, Eagles cap hanging loose from one finger as heads toward his own car. "I'll call you."

:::

Jared had programmed his number into Jensen's phone at the coffee shop, which is how Jensen had first learned the guy's last name. He's spent the past couple days occasionally repeating it to himself in his head. Pad-a-leck-i. Padalecki. Says it out loud a couple times -- "Pada _leck_ i"> \-- before rolling his eyes at himself. He seriously needs to stop obsessing.

It isn't until Monday that Jared calls him, that ridiculous name flashing in blue across Jensen's digital display.

"You wanna see that new Russell Crowe movie this Friday?" Jared asks after they exchange the few requisite pleasantries.

Jensen mentally checks his schedule before replying, "Yeah, sure. What time?"

They arrange to meet at the theater and Jensen isn't sure it's actually a date considering they both pay for their own tickets and drinks and Jared rarely strays into Jensen's personal space through the entirety of the film.

But it's still good. Still just as comfortable as the last time and Jensen drives himself home that night with a different kind of itch under his skin.

After that, Jared gets them tickets to a Longhorns basketball game and then a night out at the bar with a few of Jared's friends from school and then Riley's St. Patrick's Day Party in which they both end up totally plastered and pass out in the middle of the entryway. They catch lunch together a couple times during the week when Jensen has time between appointments and Jared isn't in class or studying, and Jared comes over a couple times to watch TV while they gorge themselves on pizza and beer. Before Jensen knows it, it's been a month and a half.

A month and a half and Jared still hasn't so much as _kissed_ him.

And it's not that Jared doesn't want to, Jensen can see that much. It's clear in the way his gaze catches on Jensen's mouth and the way he leans into Jensen sometimes when it's really not necessary. It'd taken only a few more evenings spent hanging out together for Jensen to realize the guy is pretty physically affectionate with everyone and he'd soon made no special exception for Jensen. Which has meant Jared's hand heavy on Jensen's shoulder for ten straight minutes at the bar and Jared's foot over Jensen's knee during a CSI marathon and the occasional lingering hug when they've both had a little too much to drink.

And then there's the heated look Jared had given him that night they'd been venting at each other about work-related shit. Jared had gone off on a rant about a particularly obnoxious caller and Jensen had just grinned like an asshole and said, "I bet Sam would've known just how to handle him."

He hadn't quite been ready for Jared's response, the sharp flinch of tension in his shoulders or the way his eyes had just gone dark in an instant, air practically crackling between them.

A blink and it was gone again, Jared's lips stretching into a broad smile before he let out a hearty guffaw. "Fuck you, man. Sam's got issues you don't even know about."

"Oh, is that right?" It felt a little strange talking about what was essentially one of Jared's alter egos, but he'd been loose on tequila and chicken wings and they were straddling that pleasant line between banter and outright flirting. Jensen had felt it best to play along.

"Mmm," Jared had said, some of that heat returning as his lips curved into a slow smirk. "Pretty sure he's got it bad for someone else."

"That right?"

"Mmm."

"You gonna tell me a about it?"

"Maybe sometime."

Jensen could only describe Jared's look in that moment as downright feral and he'd been only seconds away from manning up and launching himself into Jared's arms. But he'd been rudely interrupted by the shrill ring of Jared's cell phone. Instead of waiting it out like any sane person would've, Jensen had completely wussed out and disappeared into the kitchen to clean up their dinner mess. Jared had left ten minutes later, the both of them acting as though nothing strange had happened, Jared promising to call later.

But it's been a month and a half now. Nearly _seven weeks_.

Jensen's maybe starting to go a little crazy.

:::

It's probably not the best idea he's ever had. Jensen's not really passive-aggressive by nature and he's had awhile to work through the whole gay freak-out, but the idea of just grabbing Jared and kissing him is still more than a little terrifying.

There's always the possibility that he's read Jared totally wrong. What if Jared is actually happy with just being friends? What if that's all there is and the physical attraction isn't mutual? What if all the little hints are merely Jensen projecting and seeing things he _wants_ to see? He's not really sure he can endure Jared's rejection.

On the other hand, what if Jared _does_ want more? What if he kisses back? Does that mean Jensen will be in a relationship? That he'll have an actual _boyfriend_? Will he have to start attending Gay Pride parades and follow Adam Lambert around on tour?

Eventually, he figures the only real solution is to approach it cautiously.

And under the same circumstances in which they met.

"Hey there, this is Sam. Who'm I talkin' to tonight?"

Though Jensen's expecting Jared's voice this time, he still sucks in a breath as it comes through the line. There's a different tone to it than he's used to now, lower in a way he hadn't been aware enough to notice the first time they'd spoken. Not quite as openly friendly so much as gently smoldering. The fact that he knows the _real_ Jared now well enough to distinguish between the two isn't lost on him.

He is a little surprised that Jared's using the same persona, though. It's stupid and he _knows_ it's stupid, but he'd always liked the thought that Sam had been just for him, that he'd gone into retirement after their night. He can't help the low pulse of disappointment as he clears his throat and rubs his palm along his knee.

"Hi. This is Dean."

He's not making any effort to disguise his voice, knows Jared will make the connection instantly, and waits out the few beats of silence before Jared replies. "Dean. Hey. It's, uh. It's been awhile."

"Yeah. Sorry. Things've been kinda crazy lately."

"Anything you wanna talk about?"

Jared's playing along perfectly and Jensen pulls in another breath as he shifts against his pillows, draws his knees up, free hand resting flat on his stomach. "Well, I've met this guy," he says, smiling faintly as a familiar thrill runs up his spine. "Met him a couple months ago and we've been hanging out a lot. I'm just, uh. I guess I'm trying to figure out what it means, you know? Where it's going."

He's met with a beat of silence and then Jared chuckles, low and quiet. "You know this is a sex hotline, right? Not therapy."

Grinning, Jensen trails his fingers over the waistband of his shorts. Says, "Yeah, and I'm payin' good money here, so you'd better make it worth it."

Jared's subsequent laugh morphs gently into a weird kind of growl before he says, "So you want me to play like I'm him or something? I mean, I can do it no problem, but you're gonna have to give me a little more to go on."

"You think that'd help?"

"I have no idea. I'm not exactly a registered psychologist; just giving you options."

"Mmm," Jensen replies, taking a moment to think it over. It's a little weird, the idea that Jared's basically offering to play _himself_ , but it might actually work. In a totally twisted kind of way. "Well, what do you need to know?"

"Whatever you wanna tell me, I guess. What's he like?"

"He's tall," Jensen starts out, smirking to himself when Jared laughs in his ear. "Seriously, like, _freakishly_ tall. And disgustingly gorgeous. And could probably lift a small car without breaking a sweat."

"Interesting."

"And he's the kind of guy that doesn't seem to know how hot he is. Or, well. No. He knows, he just doesn't flaunt it. He flirts, though. With pretty much everyone and everything -- girls, guys, little old ladies. A few dogs here and there, which is kind of disturbing."

He's mostly joking and expects Jared to pick up on it. But instead of laughing, Jared's voice quiets. "Does that bother you?"

Honestly, Jensen's never really thought about it. Jared's paying his way through school by talking strangers to orgasm; a little harmless flirting seems pretty tame in comparison. Not that the phone sex thing even bothers Jensen. Which is maybe weird.

"No, not really," he answers, brow furrowing as his fingers idly graze the trail of hair below his belly button. "Should it?"

When Jared doesn't answer right away, an anxious sort of worry starts to settle in Jensen's stomach. This whole conversation is already not going at all like he'd planned and he's growing more and more tempted to just lift the facade and talk to Jared directly.

Except then Jared says, "No offense, man, but he sounds like a dick," and Jensen laughs despite himself.

"Well, he flirts with me, too," he says. "I'm just not very good at flirting back, you know? And I'm kinda worried I've been giving him the wrong impression without even knowing it."

"Wrong impression?"

"Yeah, uh," Jensen says, heat creeping high up his neck. "That I'm not interested in him."

"I see."

Jensen huffs a breath then, lips twitching with both amusement and mounting mortification. His voices wavers slightly when he speaks again. "So where's the sage advice? Help me out here."

Jared laughs, low and quiet and Jensen pictures him getting more comfortable, maybe scratching at his chin with one hand like he does sometimes when he's trying to concentrate.

"You should probably talk to him," Jared says. "Radical idea, I know, but it just might work."

There's enough humor in his tone to let Jensen know he's teasing, skirting close to the curtain they're both dancing behind but not yet ripping it back. "So what should I say?" Jensen replies, his thumb dipping idly under the waistband of his shorts. "This isn't, uh. It's all kinda new, you know? What if I say something totally stupid?"

"You really think he'll care, Dean?"

It's not the name that catches Jensen then, but the way Jared says it, voice a little lower and rich with meaning.

"You don't strike me as the nervous type," Jared continues, tone letting up only slightly. "I mean, I know the gay stuff is new to you, but you're not really hiding from it. You called a 1-900 number to speak with a _guy_ , not a girl. And you definitely got off on it."

"That's different."

"How? You jerked off while a total stranger talked about the ways he wanted to fuck you and then came all over yourself. That's not exactly the way of a blushing virgin, man."

As though to spite him, Jensen feels a blush work its way up his chest. "It's different," he insists, voice more firm. "I paid for it. You were basically contractually prohibited from rejecting me."

"And what about now?"

"I'm still paying for it," Jensen says, feeling more than a little pathetic about the whole thing. "And it's three bucks a minute, so can we--"

"No, that's not--" Jared says, voice wavering just a little, sounding unsure for maybe the first time. "Jensen, just. Talk to me, okay? To _me_. Not me-as-Sam or whatever. I promise I'm way hotter than he is anyway."

Jensen manages a quiet laugh at that, though his palms are sweaty and his pulse is racing. This isn't going at all like he'd hoped, but he thinks it's probably for the best. Way less spineless for one thing. More honest.

More terrifying.

"Yeah, that's. Okay. Good idea."

He thinks he can hear Jared smiling, but isn't sure if that's maybe just wishful thinking. At least not until he hears Jared's low rumbling chuckle. "How 'bout we do it when you're not shelling out cash by the second, huh? My shift's over in about an hour; I'll call you then, okay?"

"Okay," Jensen says, darting a glance at the clock on the wall. "Yeah. Okay."

:::

Three hours and two beers later, Jensen's phone still lies silent on the couch beside him. He's checked it a couple times, first to make sure the ringer is on, then a couple more times to make sure Jared hasn't left a text message instead. Apprehension claws at his insides with each passing minute and he tries in vain to concentrate on the Mavericks game. They end up winning, but he can't bring himself to care all that much.

He's just coming back from using the bathroom when he hears a knock at the door.

Wiping his wet hands against his jeans, he stops right in the hallway, frozen for half a second. It's well after 11:00, too late for just anyone to be stopping by. Jensen's about ninety percent sure he knows exactly who it is, his heart rate kicking up a notch in mounting anticipation.

His suspicions are confirmed when he opens the door seconds later.

"Hey," Jared says, dimples flashing briefly.

Before Jensen can say a single word in response, Jared reaches out with both hands, cradling Jensen's face and drawing him in. Soft, firm lips press against his own and Jared's nose smashes into his cheek. It's nothing he's expecting, startling and terrifying and so fucking _good_. He hears himself make a sound, a quiet, stilted sort of whimper as his hands instinctively grab hold of Jared's arms.

And then he remembers where they are. Whimpering again, he clenches his eyes tight and tries to pull away.

"Jared. Jared, wait."

It's not exactly meant as a protest, but it comes out a little wrong, his voice strained. Jared pulls back immediately, eyes wide and cheeks ruddy; Jensen can already see the apology forming on his lips and he clamps a hand over them to stop it, holds firm for a moment before tugging Jared into his apartment.

He shuts the door behind Jared's back, makes sure it's good and locked and then slowly turns back around. "Sorry, just. Neighbors," he says with a weak smile.

And it's awkward now. Of course. He falters and fidgets, shifts his weight from one foot to the other as Jared returns the smile, strained at the edges, and then roughly clears his throat. "No, it's. I probably shouldn't've attacked you like that."

Jensen shrugs, reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck.

"I was gonna call," Jared continues. "But I kept going over everything I wanted to say and realized it'd probably be better to just say it face-to-face. Not that, uh. I've really managed to say any of it yet. Sorry. I kinda just... how 'bout we call that whole kissing thing an ice breaker?"

Lips twitching into a smile, Jensen drops his hand and then motions towards the front room. "Should we, uh."

Jared glances back over his shoulder toward the empty couch and then back to Jensen. He looks strangely nervous, looks a little like how Jensen feels and Jensen can't help but find that somewhat reassuring.

But then Jared sighs, drops his hands to his sides, palms up. "Look how 'bout I just say it? Get it over with."

Jensen feels his skin go prickly all over again. "Er."

"I didn't want to rush you," Jared says before Jensen can give any kind of protest. "That's why I haven't made a move or whatever. It's not because I don't want to -- because, _trust me_ , I want to -- I just didn't wanna freak you out."

"Freak me out?"

Jared's lips twitch then, into something that's not quite a smile and not quite a frown. He looks uncomfortable. Anxious. Maybe even apologetic.

"Well, it was like, we just cool for awhile. Just hangin' out. And I thought something might happen, but it never really did. And then we became friends. Like, _real_ friends," he says, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "True buddies. And I have friends, don't get me wrong. Lots of 'em. But they're not... it's just so easy to be around you. Whether we're out drinking or watching a game or shootin' the shit, whatever. It's _easy_. And sometimes you look at me like there might be something more, but I can never tell whether or not I'm just seeing what I want to see, so I haven't wanted to risk fucking it all up, you know?"

"Are you serious?" Jensen says, nearly breaking into a laugh as he cuts Jared off. "You're _scared_?"

Jared's smile slips a little at that, brow furrowing into an expression somewhere between embarrassed and mildly annoyed. "Not scared. Justifiably cautious."

"Scared," Jensen says, confidence sliding slow and sure through his veins. "Scared to make a move on the guy you talked through an orgasm."

"Hey, you're the guy who called the phone sex line."

"Yeah, for _phone sex!_ Not to be asked out on a _date_. I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing here, man, you _know_ that."

"Are you seriously pissed about this?" Jared asks, voice pitched higher and shoulders tensed. "I didn't know, okay? I didn't want to push it. If you had _any_ idea how hard it was to hold back sometimes..."

Jensen manages a quiet laugh then. Shakes his head. "I'm not pissed," he says and when Jared doesn't look quite convinced, he repeats it. "I'm not. Just..."

He trails off then, nerves once again getting the better of him. This would be easier on the phone where he wouldn't have to look Jared in the eyes, could hide his mortification behind a simple wire. It'd be easier if they weren't talking at all, in fact. If they could just move past the awful awkwardness and go back to the part where Jared was kissing him.

So that's exactly what he does. He has no idea where the sudden swell of confidence comes from, just sucks in a breath and steps forward, claps a hand at the back of Jared's neck and crushes their lips together. It's Jared's turn to whimper this time, shoulders tensing under Jensen's touch for barely a second before he surges forward, hands dropping to Jensen's hips, bringing them impossibly closer, chest to chest and hip to hip.

The press of Jared's body against his own is a little overwhelming. There's nothing but solid muscle, a veritable brick wall of warmth and Jensen just wants to dig his fingers in and climb. They part for air at the same time, Jensen gasping as Jared's tongue slips into his mouth. At some point, Jared's back hits the wall and his hands slip up under Jensen's t-shirt, deft fingers gripping and kneading, sending shudders of want down to Jensen's toes.

"Fuck, _yeah_ ," Jared growls when Jensen pulls back slightly to suck in a breath. His teeth are bared and eyes dark, staring down at Jensen like he's a freakin' Thansgiving dinner or something.

Jensen shudders all over again as he ducks into Jared's neck, nosing his jaw before biting at tender skin. "Shoulda pushed," he says, voice muffled as he licks at the reddened skin. He grinds his erection against Jared's hip, moans at the feel of Jared's arousal against his own thigh. "Fuck, you shoulda pushed, Jared. Been driving me fuckin' crazy, you have no idea."

"Pretty sure I know exactly," Jared replies, voice ragged as his hands smooth inward across Jensen's chest, grazing his nipples.

Jensen presses into the touch wantonly and slides his hands up into Jared's hair, tugging his face down to catch his mouth again, messy and heated and completely crazy with want. He isn't thinking when he next speaks, just voices exactly what he wants, a rushed whisper against Jared's lips: "Wanna suck you."

" _Jesus_ ," Jared gasps, the word melting into a throaty laugh that goes straight down Jensen's spine.

Shifting his weight, Jensen drops one hand between them to press his palm against the bulge in Jared's jeans. Jared sucks in a breath, muscles tensing as his hips arch forward. Jensen's lips brush against Jared's stubbled jaw.

"All that talk about you bein' too shy to make a move?" Jared says, voice hitching every few syllables as Jensen grinds the heel of his hand against Jared's denim-covered length. "Such bullshit. Totally playin' me the whole time, weren't you? _Fuck_."

Jensen's lips twitch into a grin and he feels his face flush all over again as he shakes his head. "Just sick of talking," he confesses as his thumb unsnaps the top button of Jared's jeans.

He honestly doesn't know where he's getting the courage for this, and doesn't particularly care. He knows what he wants, and now that he knows Jared wants it too, he can't seem to stop himself from taking. Popping open the second button of Jared's jeans, he drops to his knees, Jared damn near ripping Jensen's shirt off at the same time as the cloth gets caught up in Jensen's armpits.

Jensen doesn't waste even a moment as he quickly rests back on his haunches and rids himself of his t-shirt before once again turning all his attention on Jared's button fly, deftly popping the few remaining buttons and parting the denim. Cool air brushes against his bare shoulders and back and then Jared's hands are on him, warming his skin, and Jensen bites back a groan as he curls his fingers in the waistband of Jared's boxer briefs and drags them down low enough to expose the flushed tip of Jared's dick.

This is all new territory right here. Sure, Jensen's thought about it a lot -- especially lately -- but he's never physically been in this position before, on his knees and mere inches from another guy's cock. He finds it more than a little intimidating even as his mouth starts to water.

Then Jared whimpers above him, voice wrecked as he palms the back of Jensen's head. Says, "Fuck, you look good. Holy shit," and that's it. All Jensen needs.

He looks up, eyes locking with Jared's as he presses an open-mouthed kiss to the tip, tastes the bittersweet tang of precome against his tongue. Jared shudders against him and Jensen can tell he's struggling to stay upright, body bent and muscles tense. After indulging in one more quick taste, Jensen rests back, hands still kneading Jared's thighs gently as he nods toward the general vicinity of the couch.

Jared looks confused for a second, brow furrowing, and then clearing the second he gets it, breaking into a relieved smile.

Holding his jeans up with one hand, Jared stumbles over to the couch, Jensen hot on his heels. They nearly trip over each other in their hurry and Jared ends up grabbing Jensen by the arm and dragging him down, almost getting a knee in his groin for his troubles.

"Whoa," Jared laughs, eyes bright as Jensen shifts his weight, finally managing to get a knee on either side of Jared's hips. "That was almost catastrophic."

Jensen grunts in acknowledgment, his fingers already fumbling with the front of Jared's button-down shirt. "Not really," he says, lips curving into a small grin as he unveils Jared's bare chest inch by tantalizing inch. He leans forward to bury his face in the crook of Jared's neck as he finishes the last few buttons, murmuring into the sweat-damp skin there," I woulda kissed it and made it all better."

Jared's laugh then is loud and delicious, a mixture of amusement and arousal that makes Jensen's toes curl as he finally gets Jared's shirt completely undone.

"Worst line ever," Jared says, tone teasing as Jensen kisses and bites his way down Jared's chest. He growls when he gets to Jared's nipple, tongue flicking out to taste the puckered skin, teeth scraping. Jared hisses, his back arching and huge hands once again gripping Jensen's sides. "Fuck, why haven't we been doin' this since the day we met?"

Jensen isn't sure how to answer that one; it's complicated on a couple different levels. And he's fairly sure the question is rhetorical anyway, so he chooses to stay quiet, instead working his way further down Jared's chest and abs, bending as he does so, knees on the edge of the couch cushions. From there it's easy to just slide to the floor, hands smoothing along Jared's thighs, arranging them to make room for himself.

When he looks up, Jared's staring right at him, wide-eyed and face flushed. His lips are lightly swollen and he's breathing hard, tiny beads of sweat making his skin gleam. It's easily the hottest thing Jensen's ever seen. He can't look away. Doesn't want to.

"Jensen," Jared groans, voice wrecked. "Fuck, c'mon."

Jensen blinks, breath catching a little as he looks down to see Jared holding himself by the base, thick cock curving up towards his belly.

"Please. Jensen, please. I need it. Need you to-- ohhh _shit_. Fuck. _Fuck_. Jensen!"

Jensen doesn't hesitate this time, just wraps his lips around the purpled crown of Jared's dick and sinks down. There's no finesse to at all, and Jensen finds out real quick that he can't take all that much. Jared's just as big as he'd claimed to be all those weeks ago and Jensen completely lacks any experience in this department but, as it turns out, not a gag reflex.

"Sorry, sorry! Fuck," Jared murmurs the first time Jensen pulls off. "You don't have to-- or you can go slower. I can--"

The words are cut short when Jensen only brushes him off and dives back in, shoulders squared. Knowing his limits this time, he's more careful, focusing instead on the feel of Jared's cock on his tongue, the way it fills his mouth, makes him drool and hunger for more. Slowly, he tries pushing it further, gagging a couple more times at the effort, but loving every second, the stretch and burn making his eyes water.

Jared's moaning above him, writhing with every hard and soft suck, muscles tense.

Jensen's painfully hard in his jeans and he pulls off to shift slightly, trying to relieve some of the pressure. His hand takes over, jerking Jared with rough, purposeful strokes, using the natural slick of spit and precome to ease the way. The touch of Jared's hand to his cheek is only a faint distraction and he turns his head, catches Jared's thumb between his teeth and sucking it in. It feels instinctual, just a desire to have some part of Jared inside him, and he glances up just in time to see Jared's eyes go wide and his mouth fall open. That's the only warning he gets before Jared's cursing and coming, spurting over Jensen's hand in pulse after delicious pulse.

Jensen's mouth falls slack, breath punched from his lungs as he watches Jared completely fall apart beneath him. His hand never stops moving, addicted to the weight and silky-smoothness and every shudder of orgasm he can wring out of Jared's body.

He doesn't even stop when he finally caves to his own body, just keeps one hand on Jared's dick as he fumbles with the zipper of his jeans, only falling away when he reaches into the denim and grips himself. It doesn't take much, only five or six quick, hard strokes, before he's coming undone, his entire body shaking from the force of it. He grips Jared's thigh as it rips through him, clinging as his body bends forward and he spills all over himself, streaks of jizz painting his stomach and jeans and floor.

The wave passes, but Jensen still doesn't move for a long while, keeps his head rested against the meat of Jared's thigh, body still humming as the dark musk of sex and sweat fill his senses. With a groan he releases his grip on himself, idly rubs his hand along his lower belly, catching and smearing stray streaks of come.

Above him, Jared echoes the sound, fingers lightly petting at Jensen's hair, slow and soothing.

"So that didn't suck," Jared says after a long moment, voice quiet and still slightly winded.

Letting out a snort at the poor word choice, Jensen slowly pulls himself up, gaze raking over the sight of Jared laid out before him, sweaty and sated and gorgeously debauched.

"We are totally doing that again," Jared says, voice low.

Jensen's gaze finally flicks up to Jared's face then, already fighting a small grin. "Right now?"

"Absolutely."

Laughing, Jensen shakes his head, the sound melting into a groan as he pushes himself up to his feet. "Gotta gimme at least twenty minutes," he says.

But Jared clearly has other plans, immediately grabbing Jensen by the wrist and yanking him forward. Already off balance, Jensen flails and then lands half on the couch and half on Jared's lap. His undignified yelp is immediately muffled by Jared's mouth, stolen away with a heated kiss. There's no point in fighting it and Jensen doesn't even pretend to want to, just lets his eyes slip shut as he opens, meeting every swipe of Jared's tongue with his own, an easy give and take that has Jensen only hungry for more. Their legs are tangled, bodies twisted uncomfortably and they're both covered in sweat and come and Jensen really doesn't care. All he wants is to keep hearing Jared's quiet, hitched moans for the rest of time, his ragged breaths and whispered pleas, so much clearer here than it could ever be over the phone.

When Jared finally pulls away, lips bruised pink, it's all Jensen can do to concentrate on what he's saying.

But the second Jared's lips curve into a slow grin and he slides down to kneel on the floor, the message is pretty clear.

 **end.**

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] Long Time Listener](https://archiveofourown.org/works/357225) by [heardtheowl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heardtheowl/pseuds/heardtheowl), [pianoforeplay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pianoforeplay/pseuds/pianoforeplay)




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